WATCH ME
by Hidden Gems
Summary: This short piece concentrates on Naruto as a child, before he joined the academy, and some of the events that might have helped turn him into the driven teenager he later became.


**Disclaimer**: Naruto is the property of his creator, Masashi Kishimoto, and various other companies. We all know I'm not making any money out of this; just playing with the characters a bit.

**A/N**: I started working on this about 6 months ago and only recently managed to finish it. Seems fitting to upload it on Naruto's birthday.  
It's the first time I write him and I always have trouble writing youngs kids, so I hope I didn't get it too wrong.

* * *

"Uzumaki Naruto!" the sensei yelled, slamming his cane on the table.

The small blond boy jumped and withdrew his gaze from the trees outside as said cane crashed on top of his book. He then proceeded to shout more than was necessary.

"What did you do that for, Kamimura-sensei? You scared me!" he said, getting up and pointing an accusatory finger at the older man standing red-faced in front of him.

"Were you even listening to what I said?"

Naruto gave him one of his widest grins. "Of course!"

"Can you repeat it, then?"

The boy sat down again and stretched on his chair, hooking his hands behind his neck. "I'm afraid I've forgotten, Sensei. It's all so boring…"

Something inside the man snapped, and he suddenly stood tall, rigid as a pole, both hands grasping the cane tight. The entire classroom burst out laughing, Naruto being the loudest of them all. Scratching his head, he looked around at the laughing faces of his fellow students and noticed with extreme pleasure that all eyes were on him.

"Argh, I don't know why I bother with you…" the sensei sighed before turning around and trying to resume his lesson, urging everyone to become silent again.

Even though he could still hear a few muffled laughs here and there, Naruto looked down at his book and felt overwhelmed by a harsh sense of failure. It had all come and gone so fast, too fast. The older man would usually shout for a couple of minutes before realising he couldn't win and giving up, or punishing him.

This time, however, he had dismissed him almost straightaway.

No one was looking at him anymore.

He sighed and kept his eyes locked on the corner of his book, the words of the sensei only sounding like a distant murmur.

At the end of the lesson, as the rest of the children hurriedly packed up their things and ran outside, Naruto remained on his chair until they'd all gone. He almost expected the sensei to ask him to stay and hand out some kind of punishment, but the man left as well without looking at him.

With a loud sigh, the small boy thrust his books and pencils in his bag and made his way out.

Unless he was prepared to go a long way round, the route back to the orphanage took him past the playground. He knew better than to go in there now. He'd tried so many times, cried himself to sleep so many nights just thinking about it.

"_But I'm not sick."_

"_I told you not to go near him. Mum says—"_

"_There's nothing wrong with me! I just want to play."_

"_I err…gotta go now… Gotta help my Dad."_

"_But you always stay out until much later!"_

He had decided to stop torturing himself.

For whatever reason, he knew he must have done something wrong, but he couldn't figure out what exactly. It was as though the other kids were scared of him, when he was probably the shortest one of the lot, and so unfocused most of the time that he couldn't fight properly. Even the other children at the orphanage treated him like an outcast. He'd been told that orphans understood each other's pain and were always there for one another.

But no one understood him.

No one cared about him, and now, aged seven years old, he'd decided he didn't care about anyone either. He didn't have any bonds with anyone and he was going to make sure that didn't change. He didn't need them or their constant teasing and hatred. He didn't need to be dragged down any further.

He didn't need _anyone_.

In a couple more years, he would be able to apply for the entrance exam to the academy. And he _had_ to get in. He didn't want to study but he knew this time he had to. If he didn't make it to the academy, what else would he do? Becoming a shinobi was expected of you in Konoha. And for once, being an orphan didn't make a difference, he knew that much. Ever since discovering that this particular road was not forbidden to him, he hadn't had any other dream. He was going to become a shinobi, and a good one at that. He would prove himself to everybody else and make them acknowledge him.

That wouldn't happen if he didn't make it past the entrance exam. And seeing how bad his grades were getting, he knew he had to straighten his act. Clutching his bag tighter, he hurried past the playground without casting a second look and ran back to the orphanage.

Since most children were out playing, the grounds were relatively quiet for once. Thinking that the weather was far too pleasant to be stuck inside, he made his way towards his favourite place, a very old oak tree from the top of which he had a splendid view of the village and the Hokage monument. Settling down on a thick branch, his back resting against the large trunk, he pulled out his books and forced himself to read through the day's lessons again.

He hadn't got very far when he heard familiar voices getting nearer. Glancing down, he immediately recognised his sensei and the old lady who ran the orphanage, Yagi-sama.

"So, how are things going these days, Kamimura-san?" she asked.

"Very well," he replied, hooking his hands behind his back. "Apart from the usual trouble-makers…"

"Might you be talking about that Uzumaki boy?"

Naruto froze. Putting the book down, he shifted as silently as he could to make sure he wouldn't miss a word they said. Luck had it that they stopped only a little way from his tree and that the foliage was thick enough to hide him well.

The man sighed and shook his head. "I'm just about ready to give up on that one."

"Why is that?"

"You know how he is; he's a nuisance. And he's slowing down the others' progress. He doesn't want to learn; he only goes to school because he has to. I'm telling you, nothing good will ever come out of that brat!"

Naruto clutched a nearby branch so hard that his nails tried in vain to dig into the hard bark. He wanted to shout that the man was wrong, but for once he understood that the best course of action was to remain silent. He hated Kamimura-sensei more than he'd ever hated anyone. _What's the point_, he thought, glancing at his book and feeling a very strong urge to tear it up.

The old lady slowly took a few steps away, supporting herself with her walking stick, before turning towards the man again, smiling. "I disagree."

Naruto opened his eyes wide while the man chuckled.

"Yes, Naruto _is_ the noisiest and most unfocused child I've ever seen, but I think you're wrong. I can see potential in that boy; a lot more than in most children."

"Stop fooling yourself, Yagi-sama!" the man laughed. "Just watch him."

"Oh I think _you_ should be watching him, Kamimura-san," she retorted, pointing her stick at him. "He does have many flaws, yes, but I'm sure it would only take _one_ person to help him believe in himself and hone that potential of his. And then, who knows what a great shinobi he might become."

Kamimura-san snorted.

"People like you are not helping," she snapped, her irritation perfectly clear.

He stood up straight. "There's only so much patience I can devote to a single child and I have many other students."

"I know…"

Naruto only seemed able to remember how to breathe once they were out of sight. He couldn't recall a single meaningful conversation he might have had with the old lady, and she'd just defended and praised him. No one had ever done such things for him; no one had ever stuck up for him. Guilt overwhelmed him when he realised that he wouldn't be able to thank her without revealing he'd been eavesdropping. Such a thing was bound to disappoint her, and he didn't want to do that. For once, he realised that he cared about what someone else might think of him.

That night, as he lay in his bed, unable to sleep, he thought about her. Her words rang endlessly in his ears, and had done so all evening. He wanted to find a way to thank her. Since doing it directly was now out of order, he decided that he would persevere and work hard to make her proud of him. That sounded like the right thing to do and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

But he never got the chance to make her proud of him.

Yagi-sama fell gravely ill shortly afterwards and passed away a few weeks later.

Naruto hadn't had time to accomplish anything.

He stood with all the other students during the ceremony held for her funeral and heard many of them sniffle all around him. He didn't shed a single tear. He didn't know her, and he couldn't feel sad because anger was raging inside.

What was the point?

He asked her that same question many times when he went to visit her grave the following week. What was the point of getting his hopes high, only to have them crushed again, like always?

"Kamimura-sensei must be right," he said spitefully, "Nothing good will ever come of me."

He dropped to his knees and slammed both fists on the ground. It was raining, and mud splashed all over his clothes, but he didn't care. He slammed his right fist down a few more times, just because it made him feel better.

A bitter sob shook him. He wasn't a cry baby; he never let anybody see his tears. But there was no one around, and if anyone did come up to him, he could always pretend it was rain.

Not that anyone would care to ask him why he was crying.

The lump in his throat grew bigger, and the sobs more violent.

Giving up would be so easy; it was so tempting…

A bright bolt of lightning and a loud clap of thunder just above his head startled him and made him jump.

He looked up at the tombstone again. "I wonder what you'd expect me to do, old lady," he said, wiping his face with his sleeve.

Ignoring the fact that his clothes were slowly absorbing the rain and mud, he sat down, brought his knees close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, keeping his eyes locked on the tombstone. He'd never believed in such things, but the thunder had roared _just_ as he was thinking of giving up, hadn't it? Could it have been some kind of sign?

"Are you listening, old lady?" he said, perfectly aware of how absurd it was.

He didn't expect any answer, and none came. So he stared at the tombstone a while longer, feeling the anger that had been burning through him since her death slowly melt away.

"_I'm sure it would only take one person to help him believe in himself and hone that potential of his. And then, who knows what a great shinobi he would become."_

"No one's ever believed in me," he said at length. "I don't know why _you_ did; I don't know what you saw. I don't think I could live up to your—"

He jumped when a second bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, accompanied by more thunder.

He gazed at the sky for a while, and then a smile stretched his lips. "I guess that's my answer, eh?"

Slowly, he got back to his feet and looked all around him. Even though he knew that nothing had changed, things seemed oddly different now.

"I bet you weren't the kind of person who gives up easily, eh, old lady?"

Thrusting both hands in his pocket, he turned around and let his steps take him to his tree. He climbed onto one of the main branches, glad that the thick foliage above him partly sheltered him from the rain. From where he was, he could still see her tombstone.

"I'll do it," he whispered softly. "You didn't know me and you believed I could do it. So I will. I'll _never_ give up until I become a shinobi. And I won't just be any shinobi. I'll be a great one. People will acknowledge me and respect me. I'll show them all!"

Just like any orphan, he'd spent many hours trying to imagine what his parents might have been like. And while he had no particular idea about his mother, he'd always been convinced that his father had been a powerful and esteemed shinobi.

Someone like the Fourth.

It might not have been true—and it most likely wasn't, which was why he'd never talked about it to anyone—but he still treasured the idea, because that was all he had.

"So, wherever you are, old lady, you'd better watch me. And you too," he said after a short pause, turning his gaze towards the Hokage monument, staring at the stoic face of the renowned Fourth. "_You_'d better watch out, because I promise you that I'm going to become Hokage one day. And I'll be even greater than you ever were," he said, holding out his arm towards the mountain and suddenly clenching his fist into a tight ball.

"So watch me!"

THE END


End file.
